


My Dad

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-09
Updated: 2006-08-09
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ron's thoughts about his Dad.





	My Dad

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Written for puguita's birthday.  Also posted at the  ronsexuals LJ community.  Special thanks to harry_lvr for beta'ing.

Sorry for the very pathetic title.

* * *

I could say that my dad and me are the same. We’re both tall (although I hope that when I get to his age I won’t be balding), our ears tend to turn red when we are under pressure, we both care for Harry immensely, we both love our family even though Fred and George are rowdy and Ginny can sometimes be a brat -- heck, we both loathe Percy. And we both love Muggles. Well, he loves _everything_ Muggle. And me, I’m in love with a Muggle-born. That’s almost the same, right?

I love how my dad provides for us. Our family may not be filthy rich like the Malfoys, but I bet that the ferret’s dad wouldn’t come even close to how my dad gives us what we need. And I’m not talking about flashy stuff like a new Nimbus 2001. I’m talking about the emotional stuff. He may not be aware that he does it, but I know. 

After the battle at the Department of Mysteries in my fifth year, my dad came around to my room and talked with me. He told me that he was proud of me, of what we did. He admitted that he was shaken, of course, and that Mum was ready to hex anyone who’d prevent her from seeing Ginny and me in the hospital wing, but yeah, he said he was proud that we stood by Harry. I knew that he glanced at the scars on my arms and that he was worried about how I felt. I let him touch them for a moment and he asked me if I was okay and I told him I was. I didn’t want him and Mum to worry.

Then sixth year came and I almost died on my seventeenth birthday. I know that both he and Mum were there the second they heard the news. When I opened my eyes for the first time after I was poisoned, he was the first person I saw. Well, I was actually hoping it would be Hermione, but seeing as it was a school day, and you know Hermione… but anyway, I saw Dad at my bedside. He just said that he stopped by the hospital wing to see me before he flooed to work. He kissed me on the forehead (hey, that’s the first time he’d kissed me since I turned eleven) and blushed, and I did too because, as I said, Dad never shows his emotional side of things - unlike my Mum who sometimes thinks I’m still five when she kisses me wetly on the cheeks. _Blech_.

And now it’s summer. Looking back, it really was a nightmare year, our sixth. Besides the fact that I almost died and that whole Lavender thing, Death Eaters came and attacked our school. Our headmaster died, Bill’s face was eaten by a rabid werewolf… The only thing that makes me smile about this year is that I now know how I feel for a certain Muggle-born witch. I won’t be telling her that yet, though. That time will come. And that’s another story.

We… me and a certain Mugg---, I mean, Hermione and I just got back from Harry’s and we’re now in the Burrow, preparing for a small get-together for Harry’s belated birthday party. It was my best friend’s seventeenth birthday yesterday, and he said that it’s going to be the last time he’ll ever see his wretched relatives, and he was happy when he said that. I like Harry happy.

I haven’t yet got around to telling Mum and Dad about our plans of not going to school this year. Of going with Harry wherever he needs to go. Hell, I don’t think it’s a wise idea to tell them about the Horcruxes, unless of course, we want Mum to tie the three of us together here in the house, forever within her line of vision.

I think I’ll first talk about it to Dad. Yeah. I know he’s more rational than Mum when it comes to these things. And then we’ll both tell Mum later. I know he won’t like it one bit, what with the danger and the uncertainty, but I know he’ll understand and support us. He’ll understand me. He’ll understand that I will be doing this because of Harry. That the three of us have to go through with this like we promised Harry. Because I know he believes in me. In the three of us.  



End file.
